Look Right Through Me
by IwriteFornobody
Summary: Sam and Dean help a kid in trouble.
1. Look Right Through Me

"So you would rather take on the guy with legions of capable warriors just waiting around for a fight instead of the guy that is old and has legions of warriors that couldn't hit a tree in a forest? I think I'll take my chances with Palpatine!" Sam shook his head as he exited the car, his shaggy brown hair falling across his face.

Dean, his older brother, shut his car door and then paused, thinking over this tidbit of information. "I don't know, man. I mean, you're right about the stormtroopers, but Sauron a) can't move and b) doesn't shoot electricity out of his fingers." Dean grimaced and rubbed his hand across his chest, remembering the time that he had a few too many volts shoot across his body.

Sam waited for his brother to catch up with him before beginning their trek across the street to the local diner. "Well, maybe, but that's what the lightsaber is for. And the whole soul sucking eye stare thing kind of negates -"

Both brothers stopped and immediately reached for the guns hidden by the back of their jackets at the sudden sounds of growling and crashing that came from the alley by the diner. Sam pulled his gun around, held it close by his leg, and raised his eyebrows at his brother. Dean gave a sharp nod and the two silently moved into the mouth of the alley. Halfway down the alley was a group of four teenage boys semi circled around a mound of old dingy trash cans. The brothers watched as a fifth, and much smaller, kid slowly stood up from tangle of tipped over cans. The kid reached to the right and snagged a rope halter that was attached to the chest and back of a very large golden dog. The dog was snarling and spitting at the four large boys, probably the only thing keeping them from doing anything more physical than the push that had landed the smaller kid in the trash cans.

"There, you see, we're just helping you out! Now you don't have to dig through all the trash, it's all just dumped out right in front of you." The ringer leader, a bulky blonde boy with bad acne took a step forwards. "Isn't that right boys? We were just trying to help this little dumpster diver. Mommy obviously doesn't. Too busy spending the money on drugs, I'll bet."

The dog and his owner stepped back until they were pressed against the wall, the dog still growling and snapping and the kid standing tall. When Acne took another step forward and picked up a large soggy something from the pile of trash scattered across the ground, Dean and Sam decided that they had seen enough. Dean stuck his gun back in his waistband and began a slow clap that echoed through the alleyway, quickly capturing everyone's attention as he stalked down the alley. "Wow. Nice. Beautiful display of typical insecure high school "Alpha" dominance. I bet you are third string on the football team. Desperately trying to get the attention of some girl that won't give you the time of day? What do you think, Sam?"

Sam stepped forward and squinted towards the four larger boys. "I think that those letter jackets look awfully nice. I wonder how hard it would be to get the smell of dumpster out of those."

"Shove off, old man. Nobody asked for your opinion. We take pride in our town and it's time to clean up the trash that's been hanging around." Big and Blonde sneered and started to turn back to continue his torment.

Dean had the punk pushed against the far side of the alley, his hands twisted in the kids jacket, before the gang had even realized the older man had moved. "Listen here, Butthead. You don't get to decide who's worthy and who's trash. Not even in this podunk little town. Now get out of here before I do something that you'll regret!"

Sam had moved in between the three remaining letter jackets and the kid they were tormenting subtly flashing his gun. "Dean, I say we just ask the kid to let the dog go. Then we won't have to worry about bail."

Dean smirked as the face in front of him turned pale. "Good idea, Sam." He dropped his hands from the jacket and Acne took a few steps away before straightening his jacket.

"Yeah, whatever. Come on, guys. This thrift store throway isn't worth our time anyway." He began strutting out of the alley with his posse. The strut turned into a run when the dog lunged forward, dislodging his owner's hand, and gave chase, barking up a storm.

Dean and Sam laughed as they watched the four "big bad" teens yelp and take off. Their laughter tapered off as they heard the trash cans rattle again. Now that the situation had died down they were able to get a clear look at the smaller kid that they had defended. The clothes were old, almost colorless, torn, and, thanks to the bullies, covered with slimey garbage. The hair was mostly covered by a tattered billed beanie. The hat threw a shadow over the youth's face, but the bright blue eyes stood out against the smears of dirt.

The adolescent's fingers snapped twice and the dog quickly returned, tail wagging and tongue lolling, from the entrance of the alley. He nuzzled against the small frame and turned to root through the trash. He returned to his owner's side, carrying a bookbag in his jaws.

"Hey, Kid? You okay?" Dean grabbed two of the knocked over trash cans, righting them and setting them aside as he attempted to clear a path through the mess.

The dirty youth gave a tense nod and began moving away from the two older males, the dog following closely behind.

Sam cut them off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Uh, um, were they right? Were you going through the trash for food?"

The teen's head snapped up, eyes bright with the fires of anger.

"I was just asking, because man, we've been there. My brother and I, well, we get it. Sometimes life sucks." Sam's hands were raised, palms out, in an attempt to pacify the youth. "Dean and I were actually just heading to the diner and -"

"And what my brother is trying to say is, we are going to buy you some food." Dean had finished picking up the trash cans and moved to stand next to his brother. "And we're not taking no for an answer," he said when he saw the kid's head start to shake. "What's your name, Kid?"

There was no response except for the tightening of two pale lips.

"Okay. Well in that case I'm going to call you Petey. And your dog is Fido." Dean laughed at the look of disgust that crossed the dirty face.

The kid's skinny fingers began move, bending and twisting and curling.

"Ahh," Sam said. He recognized the shapes from one of the classes he had in middle school. The teacher had used any free time at the end of class to teach her students the alphabet in sign language. They had learned a few more signs as well, but Sam really only remembered the letters. "R-O-W-A-N. Rowan? That's your name?"

Rowan's head bobbed an affirmative and then, after pointing to the dog, the fingers began again. This time only signing one letter.

"Q?"

"The dog's name is Q? Like from James Bond? That's awesome!" Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder ignoring Rowan's head shaking back and forth. "I like this kid. He's got good taste! So what do you want to eat Rowan? I figured I'd go order and then we'd take it to the park or somewhere to eat. I can't imagine they'd let Q into the diner. Is a burger fine?" He didn't even wait for an answer before heading out of the alley to the diner, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll get your girly salad, Sam, don't worry!"

Rowan looked up at Sam and just blinked. Sam laughed and waved the kid out onto the street. "Yeah, he can be overwhelming. Part of his oldest sibling personality, I guess. Let's head over to the park."

Heaving a sigh, Rowan rescued the bookbag from Q's mouth and followed Sam out of the alley.

Sam, Rowan, and Q had meandered down the street toward the park. Sam noticed that Rowan kept Q in between them and tried even harder to not come off as a creepy older man. He was able to get a little bit more information out of Rowan. No, he was not from that town. Yes, he had been on the road for a while.

Rowan answered the older man's question warily. Stranger Danger was a real thing after all. Q didn't seem to mind the oversized male and that helped calm Rowan's nerves a little. Q was a pretty good judge of character. Thankfully Dean arrived at the park, pulling into a parking space close to the table the trio had claimed, so further questioning was postponed as everyone stuffed their faces. Well, Dean and Sam stuffed their faces. Rowan sat on the ground next to Q with the food container and let the dog sniff the food and steal a few fries before picking up the burger and eating. Q had saved Rowan from eating a few nasty surprises before and Rowan always let the canine give the food a once over before splitting it between them.

Sam and Dean watched the scene play out before them and had a silent conversation with their eyebrows. Dean jerked his head toward the pair and raised a brow. Sam shook his head and glared with pointed eyes at Dean. The older brother simply rolled his eyes and took a bite of his burger. Sam huffed and cleared his throat. "Uh, Rowan? Do you have anywhere to stay tonight? Or any extra clothes to change into? I mean, yours are kind of covered in whatever crap was in those trash cans. Um. Yeah. Not to be creepy but you could come to the motel and shower and well, it's Dean's turn for laundry duty anyway."

Dean choked on his bite of burger and french fries and sent a look filled with death rays at Sam. Sam just smirked. If he had to ask the awkward questions, Dean got laundry duty again!

Rowan looked between the two brothers sitting at the table, blinking slowly.

Dean took this opportunity to jump in. "The motel is right across the street. So we could walk because, sorry. No dogs allowed in my baby." He flipped his thumb at the black car sitting near by. "Sam and I could do the laundry run while you get cleaned up. Then it's just you and Q in the motel and slightly less...creepy?" Dean winced. "We'll even leave the keys to the room with you. Then the only people who can get in are you and the manager. Which we probably don't want to happen since it's pet free."

Rowan's mind raced. A shower sounded awesome. Going to a motel room with two older guys, less awesome. But they wouldn't be there during the shower AND were handing over the keys to the room. The last shower had been so long ago. And Q would be there. Q could probably use a shower too. Clean clothes would be nice. But no way were they washing Rowan's. The shower! Rowan, Q, and the clothes could all be washed in the shower. Wouldn't be perfect but it would be doable.

Rowan slowly nodded and the two brothers smiled.

"Great!" Dean finished off the last of his burger and belched. "So how old are you, Rowan?"

Ten fingers flashed and the nine more.

"19 huh? I'm thinking, try again."

Rowan grimaced. Ten fingers flashed again, followed by six.

"Your fingers say 16, but your face says 'please oh please believe me' which means," Dean took a dramatic pause, "Try again."

Rowan scowled and quickly flashed ten then four.

"Now that's slightly more believable. You need to work on keep the lie off your face. Makes life a whole lot easier."

"Dean! Don't teach the kid to lie! Come on man!" Sam punched his brother before standing up to throw away his trash.

"Alrighty. Let's move on. Do you have clean clothes in your bag?"

Rowan shrugged a shoulder before reaching in the bag and pulling out a small packet of laundry detergent.

"So no clothes, but you come with your own detergent. That's pretty handy. You can save that for some other time. We have some in the trunk of our car."

Rowan's head moved back and forth while the right index finger pointed back towards the kid's chest.

"No? No you're not saving it? Do you have sensitive skin or something?"

"I think he means, no, you aren't washing his clothes?" Sam looked to Rowan for confirmation. Rowan gave him a nod.

"Oh-kay. Fine. Whatever. We'll spot you some clothes until you get yours washed. Nothing we have is even going to remotely fit, but I think I have some old sweats that are clean. Sam, you have any of your old shirts? You're out of luck on underwear though. They'd just slip right off. I'll stop by the story and see if I can get some smaller ones."

Rowan's head began shaking faster and faster at the last comment.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "I can take you to the store, Rowan, and you can run in and get your own."

Dean pushed off the table and started digging in his pocket. "No, it's okay. I'll go. Here's my room key, Rowan. You and Sam can head on over. He'll get you hooked up and I'll be back with the rest. My sweats are in my duffel, Sam." And he was gone.

Sam could see the panic running across Rowan's face. He decided maybe some distraction would help. "Let's go across to the motel. We've got to figure out how to sneak Q past the manager's office."

Rowan nodded shakily and threw away the remaining trash before grabbing ahold of Q's harness and once again following Sam.

They managed to get Q in by actually walking past the motel and then looping around the back to get to Dean and Sam's room. Sam quickly dug through his brothers duffel to locate the sweat pants and then through his own to find a couple of shirts that would fit the small teenager. Sam was a big guy, so none of the shirts would fit well, but maybe a few of the older ones would at least stay on the kid's shoulders and not look like a dress. Dean sweat pants would have to be rolled several times and they would still probably drag on the floor. The kid was tiny! And obviously way out of his comfort zone. Sam watched as the young boy stood silently just inside the door, hugging his arms to his chest and doing his best to just be invisible.

Kid's had a tough life, Sam thought as he grabbed the pile of clothes. "Okay, Rowan. The bathroom is through there. There's some soap and shampoo in the shower. We have some good stuff, or there's the free crap from the motel you can use. The door locks and everything. I'm going to set my key on the table. You have Dean's right?" Rowan jingled the key on it's ring. "Right. Well, I guess we just wait for Dean to come back. Sorry again, about him. He means well. Really. Shoot! We forgot socks! Dang it. Well maybe you and I can go again later and you can pick your own stuff."

Sam knew he was rambling. It was just hard when the kid was obviously uncomfortable and also nonverbal. He sighed and then just let the silence reign.

Q was wandering around the room, sniffing at everything. He finally stopped at the corner furthest from the door and laid down. Rowan moved to the dog's side and sat down leaning against the wall.

When a knock sounded on the wall, Sam looked up from where he'd been fiddling with the clothes and made eye contact with Rowan. The kid gestured towards Sam, a question obvious on his face.

"What? What do you want to know?"

Rowan fingerspelled again. You. Him.

"You want to know about us?" An affirming nod. "Not much to tell really. We grew up in a single parent home. Well, single parent motel room. Moved around a lot. Dad had a lot of...odd jobs that would take him out of town. Dean was in charge a lot. Made sure we had food, clothes, heat in the winter. Some days were easier than others. We get what you are going through, Rowan. Maybe not 100% of everything, but we do understand."

Rowan nodded, thinking over these new bits of information as the room once again lapsed into a temporary silence. It was broken by a quick banging on the door. Sam opened it to reveal Dean, holding a bag and smiling triumphantly.

"Got the undies and the socks! We almost forgot socks! Hope they fit, Little Man." He tossed the bag to Rowan. Rowan dug inside and pulled out a package of size small boxer briefs and black no-show socks. "Wasn't sure if you were a boxer or briefs man, so I went middle of the road. The socks are okay right?"

Rowan just nodded. The assumptions that some people make. Oh well, Sam said they could go back out later. Rowan gathered up the packages, took the clothes from Sam, grabbed a chair from the table and took them into the bathroom.

"Hey man, what's up with the-" Dean broke off as Sam shoved him and gave him the "Shut Your Face" eyebrows.

"Okay Rowan, we're going to go do laundry now," Sam said as Rowan came back out of the bathroom. "Lock the door behind us. We'll knock when we get back but we'll just wait outside until you let us in." The please don't leave us outside all night went unsaid. It wouldn't be the first time they had slept in the car and it wouldn't be the last.

Rowan nodded and then the brothers were gone, the door closing solidly behind them. Rowan turned the lock and slid the deadbolt before returning to the bathroom.

"Man, that kid is weird! What's with not letting us do his laundry. I mean I would love for someone to offer to do my laundry. Not wanting to take a shower with us there, okay, understandable. Smart even. But laundry!? We're all guys! So what if we see his underwear! Speaking of underwear, the look on his face when he saw the underwear! He looked like I had just handed him a pile of dog poo. Underwear is underwear! It does it's job and everything is hunky dory! And a chair. In the bathroom. I mean, come on…." Sam tuned out his brother's rambling rant at the strange young man that was in their motel room. While Dean was right that the kid was strange, Sam thought there was more to the story than just a kid being overcautious. The panic that crossed the young face when Dean mentioned buying underwear, the hope when Sam had said they'd go buy some later. The small size of the boy, obviously underfed from being on the streets but still so small. The mutism. Selective? Learned? Physical damage? So many questions with so few answers.

Rowan locked the bathroom door and then pushed the back of the chair up under the handle. Nothing wrong with being safe. Nothing at all. Two locked doors and a very large dog. Perfectly safe, perfectly normal. Rowan quickly stripped out of the nasty trash slimed clothes and her binding and left them on the floor before ushering Q into the shower and turning it on. The motel soap and shampoo was used on the dog while the teen scrubbed her face and hair with the nicer toiletries provided by the brothers. After clearing the soap suds from both bodies and getting Q out of the tub, Rowan scooped the clothes off the floor and started filling the bathtub with clean water. After pouring in the detergent, the dirty clothes including the billed beanie got a nice hard scrubbing. The water quickly turned brown so Rowan emptied the tub and let in more clean water, scrubbing the clothes again. This time the water stayed mostly clear and Rowan hung the clothes across the shower bar and side of the tub to dry. Q was next to be dried. Using a towel and the cheap, mostly worthless, built in hairdryer, Rowan was able to get the dog mostly dry. Finally Rowan was able to pull on the clothes that the brothers had so kindly loaned out and rubbed a towel over her head. It would be harder to keep her secret without all the layers she was accustomed too, but she could do it. She had to do it. They were looking for a 14 year old girl, not a 14 year boy. She'd leave the binder off for now, it was kind of a relief to not have to wear it, but she'd slip it back on when the two men came back. Before Sam took her out to buy real underwear. She shook her head. At least she knew she had them fooled.


	2. Becoming Translucent

Sam knocked on the motel room door and took a few steps back to be visible in the peephole. He moved the duffle bag of clean clothes from his right and to his left and shifted on his feet awkwardly.

"How do we know that he didn't just take a shower and then take off?" Dean glanced at his slightly taller but younger brother. "What? Don't look at me like that. He could have."

Sam huffed and shook his head. "Why would he? He was going to take a shower and he wanted to wash his clothes. He's wearing clothes that have to be about six sizes to big. Where's he going to go in clothes like that. This small town's police officers would be all over him. Just give him a second."

They ended up waiting close to five minutes for Rowan to crack the door open. Dean pushed it the rest of the way open as Rowan retreated to stand with Q in front of the closed bathroom door. Dean sniffed the air. "Smells like eucalyptus and wet dog in here. Did Q get a bath too? Why do dogs have to smell so freaking bad all the time?"

Sam punched his brother hard on the arm and ignored the yelp and pout that followed. "Were you able to find everything you needed?" he asked Rowan.

The boy nodded before turning to Q. The brothers watched as Rowan caught the dog's attention by pointing a finger towards his blue eyes. _Watch me._ The dog perked his ears and his tail stilled. This was followed by a closed fist raised to shoulder height. Q sat. The next command was a flat palm pushed slowly toward the dog's snout. _Stay._ Rowan turned, went to stand next to the still open door, and looked at Sam with big eyes.

"Right. I promised we would go shopping. Just give me a second to put my stuff down." Sam dropped his bag on the nearby bed and jumped when Q began a sudden low growl. He glanced up to see that Dean had moved as if to enter the bathroom, but had quickly aborted that plan at the canine's warning.

"Whoa, Q. Sorry I said you smelled. I just need to go to the bathroom!" Dean had his hands up, palms out, in an attempt to soothe the dog. He tried to take a step forward only to be rewarded with more growls that were slightly louder than before. Dean quickly retreated and the growls abruptly stopped. He lifted his foot as if to step closer and Q began again. "Are you serious! I'm not even allowed to use the bathroom in the motel room that _I_ paid for?!" He turned around to look at Sam and Rowan gesturing widely with his hands.

Rowan just shrugged and Sam chuckled. "Chill out, Dean. Q is just protecting their territory. Your book bag is still in the bathroom right?" He turned to look at Rowan. The teenager gave a small nod. "See, he's just doing his job. You'll just have to hold it until we get back. I need the car keys." Dean muttered something about territorial dogs as he tossed Sam the keys to the big black car that sat right outside the door.

Sam herded Rowan out of the room being careful not to crowd or touch the boy. "I noticed a little store on our way back from the laundromat. It looked like they had a little bit of everything there. We'll get you some clothes and toiletries and also pick up some food and drinks for dinner tonight. I'm pretty sure there was a microwave in the kitchen area."

Rowan shrugged again and nodded. She could do her own shopping while Sam picked out food. She was thankful for the too large, baggy clothes she was wearing. They would make "shopping" things like underwear a little bit easier. She climbed into the passenger side of the car and glanced around before settling into the leather seat.

"Pretty nice huh? Dean takes really good care of his car. It's almost sickening sometimes." Sam started up the car, pulled out of the motel parking lot, and headed for the store. He glanced at Rowan from time to time during the trip, noticing how small the kid actually was. Rowan was wearing on of Sam's oldest and smallest shirts and the collar was still trying to slip down the young boy's shoulders. Rowan was holding the front of the collar to keep it from doing so. The pants were rolled up at the ankles and, judging from the bulge around the kid's middle, rolled several times at the waist too. He was too small, Sam would have to make sure that the kid was getting enough to eat while he stayed with them. The boy was staring out his window at the passing scenery but was tense all over, like he was ready to jump out and run at any given moment. It was awful that a kid this young was living on his own out on the streets.

When they reached the store, Sam laid out the plan of attack for the shopping trip. "We'll divide and conquer. I'll get the food, you can do toiletries and clothes. I'll find you when I get finished. Sound good?"

Rowan nodded, exited the car, and headed for the store. She went inside and then waited to Sam to head off to the small grocery section before making her way toward the toiletries. She picked up a toothbrush, toothpaste, and looked through the deodorant options. After smelling a few different sticks, she decided to go with Irish Spring. Not too manly, but not super girly either. It would do it's job and help her keep her secret. She was walking through the rest of the section making sure that there was nothing else she needed. Down towards the end of the aisle were the feminine hygiene products. She had a few left in her bag, but those were something that a girl never wanted to be out of when the time hit. Rowan glanced towards the ends of the aisle using her peripheral vision and then snatched a small package off the shelf. She was lifting up the hem of her shirt to stick the pack under her waistband when a large hand latched on to her elbow. Rowan temporarily froze before dropping everything in her hands and preparing to run.

Sam browsed through the meager pickings of the grocery aisle trying to find something that could be made in the small kitchenette of the motel room. It was mostly just snack foods on the shelves; chips, crackers, a few loaves of bread, cans of fruit and some of vegetables, and a small cooler unit with milk and cheese. He grabbed a loaf of bread, a couple of cans of mixed fruit, and some cheese from the cooler. After thinking about how badly Dean was going to complain about cheese sandwiches, Sam also grabbed a few bags chips and placed them into his basket.

Finished with the grocery portion of his shopping Sam headed over to the Health and Beauty section, where he last saw Rowan. He spotted the top of Rowan's dark haired head and hesitated a little. Sam was a tall man and could easily see over the shelving units that made up the aisles in this small store. It looked like Rowan was standing in front of the display of feminine hygiene products. Sam began walking a little slower and a lot more quietly, waiting to see what his charge would do. When he got to the end of the aisle that Rowan was in, he saw the teen's hand shoot out and grab a small package. Puzzle pieces in his mind began clicking into place as he reached out a hand to stop the youth from hiding the package in the oversized clothing.

"Hey," he whispered, trying to calm Rowan down from the very obvious flight response that had kicked in at being caught. "It's just me. Rowan, it's just me."

The teen looked up with watery eyes, chest heaving rapidly with heavy breaths, and body shaking with fear and panic. One hand came up and began rubbing circles in front of that rising and falling chest. _Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry._ Blue eyes fell away from hazel ones and fixated on the floor.

"Hey, hey," Sam placed two fingers under the small chin in front of him and lifted until he could see the bright blue eyes again. "Hey," he said a little more firmly than before, "look at me. You aren't in trouble, Rowan." He knelt down and picked up the offending package. "Are these something that you need?"

The eyes shifted away again before Rowan gave a tight quick nod.

"Okay. Then we'll get them. You don't have to steal them. How about we get a bigger sized package so that you don't have to worry about running out so soon." Sam replaced the small package on the shelf and picked a larger package of the same product before placing it into the basket that he had set on the floor. "There we go, problem solved. Let's pick up the rest of your stuff up off the floor and then we can head over to the clothing section." He gathered up the rest of Rowan's chosen toiletries and placed them into the basket as well. Rowan stood stock still, almost as if locked into place.

Sam sighed. "Rowan, it's _okay._ I'm not mad. I mean, I have a few questions, but I'm not going to do something like dump you on the side of the road or anything. Shoot, if I did that, we'd never be able to get into the bathroom at the motel because no one would be able to tell Q to move! And my favorite shampoo is in there!" He grinned when he saw Rowan's lips twitch a little at the corners. "So, we'll go finish up our shopping, get you some real underwear. Makes sense now why you hated Dean's decision. And then we'll go back to the room and everything will be okay."

Rowan felt the tension slowly start to leave her still shaking body. This, this whole situation right here is exactly why she took Q with her everywhere. He was a great watchdog and kept her from getting caught. At least Sam had taken it all in stride and wasn't being a jerk about it. He had yet to call her names or say she was weird or disgusting or some other ridiculous thing that people say when they jump to conclusions. She reached forwards and grabbed the older man's arm as he moved to stand up. She placed her index finger over her lips, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say.

"Don't worry kid, I won't say a thing." He picked up the basket and hesitated for a second before opening his arms slightly and moving a little closer to her. "Can I-"

Rowan shrank back at first but then took two small steps forward and buried herself in the embrace. It had been so long since she had felt the positive touch of another person. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and she sighed, content.

Sam was shocked when Rowan actually moved forward into his hug. The small arms that wrapped around his waist squeezed tightly, almost desperately. He tightened his own in response and held on, waiting for Rowan to break the embrace. When the teen finally stepped back, face red with embarrassment, Sam just wrapped an arm around those skinny shoulders and walked toward the back of the store where the clothing was. He took Rowan to the women's section and then stood back, letting her make her own clothing choices. It wasn't long before she was back, slipping a small package into the basket and then heading across to the men's section to pick out a few size extra small shirts and pants. Sam handed Rowan a box with some sturdy boots inside and had her try them on. When they found a pair that fit, the two gathered up their purchases and returned to the front of the store to check out.

"Hold on just one second. I need to buy one more thing." Sam handed the basket to Rowan and walked briskly over to a section of the store that they hadn't been in. He returned with a notebook and a package of pens. "Okay, I think we're ready. Do you want to go on out to the car or wait with me?" After seeing the confusion on Rowan's face, he explained his question. "I just wasn't sure how comfortable you are with being here while the cashier rings up our purchases. If you want to wait in the car, you can. But if you don't want to, well, as far as the cashier knows we are buying necessities for our sister, right? You do what makes you comfortable." Sam wanted Rowan to feel safe and didn't want to expose her to the ultra closed mindedness that too many people displayed these days. He had to laugh though as Rowan simply shrugged and moved forward to stand in the checkout line.

Turns out he needn't have worried, the teen running the register obviously couldn't have cared less about what items came across his till. They gathered up their bags and returned to the car, depositing them in the trunk. Sam pulled out the notebook and the pens. When they were both seated in the front of the car, he handed the items to Rowan. "These are for you. I'm not trying to force you or anything but, I don't know very much sign language except for the alphabet and it may take me a while to learn and then teach Dean. Old dog, new tricks and all. But until then if you need something you could write it down? Just an idea. You don't have to do it if you don't want to." He ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.

Rowan flipped to the first page of the notebook and began writing. She showed it to Sam with a smile. The word thanks was written darkly and underlined.

"Not a problem. Um, Rowan I just have one question that I need answered. And then I won't ask anymore. Are you, uh, do you, I just, I mean, do you want to be a girl?" He watched as Rowan's mouth dropped open and then popped shut again. Her shoulders began shaking as her eyes crinkled up. "I'm sorry, I just need to know what to...are you laughing at me?"

Rowan nodded her head emphatically. She finally got herself under control and wiped away fake tears before looking at Sam's flushed face. She made eye contact and then began writing in the notebook again. She wrote slowly and angled it so that Sam could read as she wrote. I. Am. A. Girl. She underlined the whole thing several times.

"Okay. Okay. I get it. I just wanted to make sure. I didn't want to accidentally call you the wrong thing or anything like that. Even if it was just in my head. Can I ask why?"

Rowan cocked her head to the side. B-O-Y, she signed.

"Yeah, why dress like a boy? You do a pretty convincing job by the way. I was fooled. Dean is still fooled. Probably will be for a while actually."

Rowan shrugged and tore the page she had written on out of the notebook. She folded it up and tore it into tiny pieces before responding, fingers twisting and curling again. _Easier. Safer._

Sam just nodded and started the car. "Well, let's get back before Q has to take a chunk out of Dean."

Rowan smiled and leaned against the window. She had gotten lucky today. Very lucky indeed.


	3. Finally Opaque

I've been living with the brothers for a few months now. I was going to leave when Dean decided it was time for them to move on, but they convinced me to stay with them. Sam knows my secret so I kind of expected him to want me to stay. He has a bad case of Save the Damsel in Distress Syndrome. I've seen it a lot during my time with them. What I didn't expect was for Dean to back him up. Especially since there was no way I was going anywhere without Q. He did pitch a little bit of a fit about that the first time, but Sam stole a blanket from the motel room and covered half of the back seat with it, so Dean pretty much got over it. He still mumbles under his breath about his car smelling like dog, but then again he's the one that volunteers to go to the park with me and Q to throw a ball around, so he must not hate the dog too much. He's also the one that brought home a legitimate leash and harness, saying that my rope one was just one lunge away from snapping and then we'd have to pay a fine when Q bit someone. Whatever makes him feel better.

Life's definitely been interesting, to say the least. Do you know how hard it is to hide your gender from someone you are living with? Especially when you're a girl and dealing with things like periods. Needless to say I have a lot of "school projects" that require day long trips to the library in whatever town we happen in during those times. Ugh. The school argument. That one wasn't pretty. Dean wanted to enroll me in a public school. I was having none of that. He would have enrolled me as a boy. Which fine, whatever, that's the way I want to be seen right now, but I was not about to be stuck into a boys Physical Education class. I've been in a few shelters, I've seen what goes on in the "little boys room." I'll pass.

Anyway, Dean would bring up school and I would just tune him out. I'd give a little nod to acknowledge that he spoke because I didn't want to be incredibly rude. Then I'd either turn up the volume on the TV or just take Q and go for a walk for a while. That worked for a while. At first he'd just ruffle my short hair and say something about how no kid wants to go to school, but then after the second month of no standard education, he flipped out. The phrase "If I'm going to be unofficially responsible for a minor then that minor is getting an education" was thrown around a lot. I was grounded to the motel room during the day because "all the other kids are in school, so what are the cops going to do when they see you out walking around. Pick you up, that's what. Then we'll have to come and get you out of jail, only, surprise! We aren't really your guardians and have no proof that we are!" Which was a valid argument, so I couldn't really do anything to buck that restriction. I just made his life as miserable as he was making mine. Sort of tricky when you aren't verbal. I figured out little things that would drive him crazy and abused them. Staring at the back of his head and looking away when he glanced around, that one was fun. Playing the same five songs over and over and over and over again, I nearly drove myself crazy with that one. If I never hear "Firework" or "Grenade" again, it will be too soon. The pacing back and forth is what finally broke him though. I had been walking across the motel room for about 3 hours, 30 steps each way, when he finally snapped. Things were said, mouths dropped open, doors slammed, and I left. Didn't go far, just out behind the motel into the open field and sat. I don't know how long I was there before Q came up, Sam following behind. While Q sniffed my face and then licked away my tears, Sam sat down beside us and asked why I was so set against going to school. He handed me the notebook and I wrote my answer down.

"P.E.? You don't want to go to school because of a P.E. class?"

I just looked him. It took him a second, sometimes he's a little slow about these things.

"...Ooohhhh. Yeah. That probably wouldn't be so great." He grimaced at the thought. "Well, the good news is, I pitched Dean a compromise and he accepted it. How does online school sound? I've been doing some research. Was actually going to bring it up after the lady I was talking to about it got back with me. You two just couldn't wait, could you."

I shrugged. Online school was doable.

Sam and I continued our heart to heart for few more minutes before Dean joined us. He awkwardly apologized, the words "I'm sorry" actually left his mouth. Color me shocked that day. We all agreed to the online schooling and to never listen to those five songs ever again. Life went on.

Sam and I became pretty close. He's exactly the big brother that I never knew I wanted. We do most of the shopping together and he's the one in charge of making sure that I get my schoolwork done on time. It helps that he knows the truth too. He's pretty laid back and easy to talk to. Well, write to. He never pushes me to share more than what I want to but is alway ready to listen. It's a nice change from what normal used to be.

If Sam is my brother, then Dean is my dad. He's super protective. Not just of me, but Sam too. He's always the first to sacrifice to make sure that we have what we need. The only room left only has two beds and no cot is available? Dean volunteers to sleep on the floor and makes sure that we sleep in the beds. I tried to fight him on that once. I've slept on the ground before and Q makes a pretty great heated pillow. I curled up in the corner of the room on the floor and was almost asleep when Dean picked me up and threw me into the middle of the bed furthest from the door. He had glared, pointed with one very stern finger, and said "Stay." He grabbed a pillow from me and one from Sam, laid out a blanket, and collapsed on top of it. (When I woke up the next morning, he had been using Q as a teddy bear, and he couldn't deny it because Sam took a picture.) He was in charge of making sure that we ate during school projects and that I maintained my 10 o'clock curfew. ("I'm not saying you have to be in bed at 10, I'm not your mom. You need to be inside at 10 because if I have to come looking, you won't like what happens.") Dean also made sure that Sam and I took breaks from each other whenever the stress of schooling started making us snappish. He would forcefully shut the laptop, throw Sam his running shoes, and me, Q's leash. We would go to the local park for a few hours and throw a ball for Q and just hang out for a while. During these times, he was like another brother. He would often introduce us as that if there was a young single lady he deemed attractive there. It always made me feel pretty good to be acknowledged as family.

I'm not sure exactly what Sam and Dean do as far as work. All they ever tell me is that they do odd jobs. They travel from town to town, state to state, living in motel rooms and working odd jobs. I don't ask for more details because they don't ask me for more details about my life. Usually, one would go to work during the day and the other would stay with me. Sam said that they didn't want to leave me alone because that would be sucky of them. The days when Dean went to work and Sam stayed were always school days spent either in the motel room or the library. Days with Sam gone and Dean staying were more relaxed. We'd rent movies and find somewhere to play pool. Once we even got to play laser tag. Dean was scary good. I'm glad he was on my team because the other team got annihilated. Occasionally, they'd both have to work and I was told to stay in the motel room and not to leave under penalty of no pizza for a month. Pizza is my weakness.

It had been an awful two weeks when it happened. I had gotten sick somehow, nothing I ate stayed down for a couple of days. When I was starting to get better, Sam dropped. Shortly after him, Dean did as well. They had finally gotten over the worst of it when I got sick again. Not as bad this time, more cold symptoms than flu. Sam and Dean both had to go to work after being sick for so many days. I was left in the motel room that had been my prison for 14 days already. Even Q was scratching at the walls. Mostly figuratively, although he may have actually put a few scratches on the door. Q and I attempted to settle in front of the TV and become comatose, but daytime TV is awful. I even tried doing some school work, but couldn't focus long enough to get anything done. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the room phone rang. It was Dean calling to say that they had to pull some extra hours and wouldn't be home until really late tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest. I was instructed to stay put and go to bed by midnight.

Yeah...staying put wasn't happening. I hung up the phone, had the leash snapped onto Q's harness, grabbed up my bookbag and was out the door in record time. I glanced up and down the street several times, fully expecting Dean and Sam to be camped out waiting to revoke my pizza privilege. When I didn't see them or the car, Q and I began our walk of freedom. The cool clean air felt so amazing after being stuck in that room for so long. Sam had opened the windows briefly after everyone had stopped throwing up to clear out the room a little, but I still felt like I could smell the sickness lingering.

Q and I meandered for a while ending up at the dog park. I unhooked Q and dug out his ball from my bag. There was a few other people out with their pets, but not enough to be worrying to me and Q usually did alright with other dogs. I threw Q's ball and he tore up the ground in his excitement to give chase. He brought it back, we wrestled for it for a while before he dropped the ball, and the process began again. I have no idea how long we played but my arm got tired way before Q did. The dog park had pretty much emptied. There were a few cars left in the parking lot but we were the only ones left in the dog park proper. I wound up for one last throw and chucked it as hard as I could. Q took off and I watched his ground shaking gallop across the grassy field. Noticing movement out of the corner of my eye I started to turn. I felt a burning sensation across my lower rib cage and I was pushed to the ground as my bag was ripped off my back. My head connected hard with the ground and the last thing I heard was Q's roar of anger as he came racing back toward me.

I woke to a darkening sky and a worried dog. Q's nose was in my face and he was licking my cheek and nose. His whines were constant and did little to help my headache. I sat up slowly, the world swimming around me slightly. My hands went automatically to my rib cage as the skin pulled when I moved. There was a long slash through my shirt and jacket and my fingers came away from the hole bloody. Crap. Sam was going to be ticked and Dean. Double crap. Dean was going to lose it. I pushed myself to my feet, using Q's broad back to steady myself, his strong body bracing my wobbly legs. It was getting darker, but I had time. I could make it back to the motel room before they did and get this blood taken care of. Ditch the shirt and jacket and they would never know. Proud of myself for coming up with a plan while probably concussed, based on the nausea and swimming vision, I began the trek back to the motel room. I don't remember most of the walk home, I'm blaming that and what happened next on the concussion.

I should have been more aware. I should have just turned and ran the other direction. But I had started feeling safe, feeling normal with these two brothers, and so I returned to this feeling of safety. Right into the open arms and the angry doesn't even begin to touch it face of Dean. I was struggling with getting the key in the lock when it opened seemingly by itself. When I looked into a raging green sea of fury I nearly groaned. Why couldn't it have been Sam. Dean, predictably, went nuts.

"Where were you?!" He grabbed my arms and yanked me into the room. I could feel my brain sloshing around inside of my skull. I shrugged and tried to move past him to the bathroom. He grabbed me again and jerked me around to face him. Apparently he wasn't done talking yet. I just wrapped my arms around my middle, all the better to hide blood and ruined clothing with, and squinted my eyes against the lights. Why are there so many lights in one room?

"Rowan!" He shook me. Apparently drifting while in the middle of a lecture is not acceptable. "What happened to staying put! We thought we could trust you! I thought I could trust you! Sam is out there looking for you right now! Where the heck did you go?" He shook me some more and it felt like my head was going to flop off my neck. "Dang it, Rowan! Are you drunk? If you are drunk, so help me, I will…" He was shaking me again. I couldn't help it. It was like a bile sneak attack. Dean must have seen it coming because he moved to the side. I voided my stomach all over the floor. At least it wasn't on Dean. That would have made this day 10,000 times worse.

Finally something good happened. Throwing up meant that he finally took me to where I wanted to go in the first place. He set me down on the floor in front of the toilet and I dry heaved a few times. Nothing more came up though, so Dean pushed me back against the tub. The lights in the bathroom were a bajillion times brighter than the ones in the room. I brought my left hand up to cover my eyes and hold my aching head. Q walked over and shoved his nose into the hole in my clothing. I gasped as he brushed across the wound there. I immediately regretted the action when I heard Dean's voice, slow and deep and scary. "What. Is. That."

I dropped my hand back down, pulled my knees up toward my stomach, gasping as the skin pulled again across my ribs, and slowly, carefully, shook my head. Q was a traitor. Dumb, good for nothing dog.

"That looked like blood, Rowan. Move your hands. We've go to get your jacket off. And you don't want to tell me no right now, Little Brother." The commands were short and sharp. His voice was cold steel slightly tempered with concern. I shook my head again and threw my right hand in the air, signing the letter S. "Sam left his phone on the table here in his panic to get out and find you. Rowan, I need to see your side. Move your hand so we can take the jacket off."

I signed another frantic S, scrunched my eyes shut, and tucked my head down. Dean was looming over me. "Not happening right now."

I heard him push Q away and out toward the main room. I jumped when I felt his hands on my my shoulders, pushing the jacket down my arms. I clenched them tighter to my stomach, but Dean had little problem using the jacket to pry them off of my middle. When his hands reached for the bottom hem of my shirt, I jerked backwards and twisted trying to get away. My shirt was staying. My shirt had to stay. I was trapped in between the tub and Dean with nowhere to escape too. I could feel my breath quickening. Q started barking and I heard the bathroom door slam shut. I increased my attempts at escape. My ribs were killing me but this was not going to happen.

"Rowan, calm down, man! I need to see what happened. Just...hold...still…"

I jerked and twisted again. "Nnn…"

Dean's hand jerked back like he had touched fire. "Okay. Okay, Rowan." He sat back heavily against the cabinet under the sink. He waited until I was breathing more evenly before he moved closer again. "Rowan, I have to see it. You're still bleeding, it's soaking your shirt. How about I just make the hole a little a bigger? Okay? We will have to pitch the shirt anyways. Your shirt stays on and I get to take a look. Win-win, right?"

I thought about that for a minute before shakily nodding. He kneeled over me again, stuck his fingers into the hole in my shirt and pulled it apart, widening the hole. "Dang it, Rowan. What in the world were you doing? This is going to need stitches." He prodded around the wound and I whimpered. That freaking hurt! He ripped the material a little more. "I can't see where it starts. Hope this wasn't one of your favorite shirts."

The sound of ripping material filled the small bathroom. His hands moved higher up my side. Too high! He was ripping too high! I tried to wiggle away, but that just ripped the shirt more. I knew immediately when he saw. He froze, his hands still gripping the ragged edges of my shirt.

My breathing sped up again, filling the silent bathroom. I pushed Dean's hands away, pushed him away. I fell onto my uninjured side and curled my knees up tight like a pillbug. I caught a glimpse of Dean's wide eyes before slamming my own eyes shut.

"What is...how...I…Ro?"

I blocked Dean's voice out and retreated into myself. It was safe here. There was no angry adults here. No fear of being a disappointment.

I didn't hear Sam come barging through the front door and then through the bathroom door. I didn't hear him yell at Dean to get out. I didn't see Dean walk out with his head hung low, closing the front door behind him.

Eventually, I registered the move from the cold floor to the soft fabric of Sam's worn jeans and shirt. Gradually, I felt warmth encompass me. I did see the light against my eyelids get a little bit darker as Sam tucked his head over mine. After some time, I even heard his voice, murmuring to me. I couldn't hear what he was saying but just his voice was enough. I uncurled a little and wrapped my arms around his torso and buried my head into his chest. And I cried. Sam held me as I cried and then fell into an exhausted sleep.

When I woke up, I was lying on my bed. I had a new shirt on, was tucked comfortably under the blankets, and could feel Q's reassuring heavy weight on my feet. A hand moved just on the edge of my vision to the left and when I turned I saw Sam sitting beside me, looking concerned.

"Hey, Kid." Sam was always careful not to call me any gender specific pet names. "It's been a long one, hasn't it." He reached across the blanket to grasp my hand.

I nodded and winced as my headache made itself known.

"Yeah, you have a pretty good sized knot on the side of your head. Matches the four inch gash in your side." I moved my right hand up to cover the injured area over the blankets. "Don't worry. I got you stitched up and bandaged." He gently squeezed my hand. "You scared us pretty good. What happened?"

I mimed writing with a pen in the air with my free hand, not wanting to relinquish my hold on his.

"Here," I heard a gruff voice come from the other side of me. I turned my head and saw Dean standing there, holding my notebook and pen. I took them from him and quickly looked away. I didn't want to see his disappointment. With Sam's help, I sat up and began writing. I told them what I could remember of the dog park. I focused most of my attention on Sam, avoided looking at Dean as much as possible. When I had to look at him, I didn't look at his face. I couldn't look at his face.

After getting the story from me, Sam told me to get some more rest. He would be waking me up occasionally, just in case, but he didn't think my concussion was a very bad one. I kept my grip on his hand as I drifted off again.


	4. One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

Sam sighed heavily and closed his laptop. Dean jerked from his intense staring contest with the tabletop and glanced his younger brother. Sam's eyebrow twitched and his head bobbed toward the bed on the other side of the room. Green eyes bored deeply into hazel, before sliding over to the scene across the room. Rowan was on the far bed watching terrible daytime TV with Q curled tightly around her, his large head resting on her lap. Human and canine locked eyes across the room. Q raised his head, lifted his lip and growled deeply until Rowan distracted him by rubbing behind and underneath his ears. The growls quickly turned to pleased moans as he laid his head back down in her lap. Dean zipped his gaze back to Sam, his eyes pleading. Rolling his eyes, Sam pushed back from the table and made his way to the bathroom, ignoring the increasingly desperate looks his brother was sending him.

Sam closed and locked the door behind him before tugging his hands through his long hair. It'd been two weeks since the "incident" and things were still weird between Dean and Rowan. Sam had spoken with both of them individually about what had happened. Rowan seemed to be mostly over her fear that Dean was going to insist on her leaving now that her secret was out, though she was still timid in one on one settings. Dean, on the other hand, was really struggling. He avoided being left alone with teen and if interaction was required, it was as short and sweet as possible and he couldn't make eye contact for longer than a few seconds. Sam leaned heavily on the sink and played back yesterday's attempt at getting Dean to talk with Rowan in his mind.

"It was non-consensual touch, Sammy! I touched, I kept touch-, he, _she_ , said no! Or at least tried to, and I just kept-"

"Dean, you were trying to help. There was blood and you had to do what you had to do. Could you have been a little more gentle? Probably. But you were worried and there was blood and it was Rowan and she gets that, Dean. She understands and you need to talk to her about it."

"Sammy, I, I can't. We don't know what happened before we took them in. She was panicking, Sam. I caused that. I am no better than whatever, whoever, she's running from. Q won't even let me within 3 feet of her! And even then it's because there's only so much space in Baby!"

"Dean, you can't do that. We don't know what happened back then. And maybe if you tried to talk with Rowan, Q would get over his hang up. But you haven't even tried! You just ignore her or leave as quickly as you can. If you don't man up soon, you're going to hurt her worse, Dean. Because, even though she says she isn't, she still scared that you don't want to haul a girl around." Sam had grabbed Dean's jacket at this point and surprisingly, the older man had let himself be pushed against the wall of gas station they were standing outside of. "That's what she's worried about Dean! Not that you were, or are, going to hurt her! She's worried that you'll kick her to the curb! You need to grow a pair and have a chick flick moment because otherwise," Sam released his brother and took a few steps back, "otherwise, we're going to wake up one day and she'll be gone. And who knows what will happen to her then."

Sam had left his brother, jacket and shirt rumpled, back still pressed to the dirty old wall, and returned to the Impala. Rowan had looked at him quizzically when he'd crawled into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot. "Dean decided to walk back to the motel. Something about needing to work off the two bacon cheeseburgers he had for lunch," he told her before rubbing his massive hand over her head and messing up her hair.

The younger Winchester shook his head at the memory. Dean's walk hadn't done a lick of good. If anything it had made things more awkward in the small motel room, which of course, Dean responded to like he had every other night the past week; with a trip to the local bar. Sam inhaled a sharp breath as a plan formed in his mind. He flushed the unused toilet and ran the water in the sink for a short time to give his trip to the bathroom some solidity as an excuse to the people in the other room. He just had to survive a few more hours.

"No! No way. You can't leave me here!" Dean's voice had raised an octave since Sam had initiated Plan: Instigate Chick Flick.

"Yes, Dean, I am. I've been here every night for the past week while you went out and wallowed in alcohol and self hatred. It's my turn to get out for a night." Sam brushed past Dean to stand by the driver's side door of the Impala. "Besides, they're sleeping. I have a hard time believing that you are scared of a sleeping teenager and a dog."

Dean stared his brother down. "That dog _hates_ me! He's going to kill me as soon as you leave! 30 seconds, he wakes up, jumps up, and tears out my throat! With his teeth!"

Sam's lips tightened and his eyebrows lowered.

"It could happen," Dean mumbled while averting his gaze.

"Get in there and watch something on TV. You're on babysitting duty tonight." Sam pulled the creaky door open and stuck his right leg in the car. "And Dean, make sure it's appropriate. Rowan might not speak, but she's not blind or deaf." Sam slid the rest of his long body into the car, shut the heavy door, and drove away.

"Wha- I wouldn't," Dean spluttered as he watched his brother pull out of the parking lot and onto the street. He was tempted to pick up a chunk of the gravel that made up the parking lot and hurl it after his least favorite sibling, but all the rock would do was cause damage to Baby. It's not her fault Sam is not as clever or funny as he thinks he is.

Dean sighed and turned to the motel room door. He slowly turned the knob and eased it open, hoping and praying it wouldn't creak. It did a little but he was able to slip in and get it closed again without disturbing the two slumbering lumps across the room. He grabbed a beer from the cooler next to the small table and settled onto the empty bed to do some channel surfing.

Dean had settled on a channel that was showing an old western and had made it through about half of the movie when he heard movement from the other bed. As he watched, Rowan's head came out from under the blankets, hair going every which way. The teen didn't even open her eyes as she slid a finger across the screen of the cell phone, the one Dean had insisted on buying her after the whole fiasco, and lifted it to her ear. She listened for a minute or two, slowly blinking, before hanging up the phone and tossing it to the bed. She stretched and ran her hands through her short hair before noticing Dean was watching her. She gave a timid smile before dropping her gaze to her dog.

"Who was that?" Dean winced as the words came out a lot harsher than he intended them to and Rowan flinched slightly in response.

Rowan held up a fist, her thumb curled in front of her other fingers.

"Sam. Well that's a little too convenient, you manipulating son of a-," Dean trailed off as Rowan moved across her bed to sit on the edge closest to his own. He watched as she picked up the notebook from the nightstand in between the two beds and started writing. When she had finished, she passed the notebook to him, making brief eye contact before pulling her hand back and fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

 _He totally planned that phone call. I could hear way to clearly for the phone to have been in his pocket. He was playing pool. I could hear the balls clacking against each other. I think he was also maybe pretending to be drunk? His slurs were off a little bit. Too forced._

Dean chuckled lightly at the first part of the message before becoming somber again. "Rowan, Sam's never gotten drunk around you has he? When I'm not here?"

Rowan shook her head rapidly, snapping her middle and index fingers to her thumb before reaching for the notebook in Dean's hand. She quickly wrote out the word no and underlined it several times.

"Okay, just checking. He's not a violent drunk by any means, mostly stupid drunk that leads to depressing drunk. How did you know he was faking it?"

 _Experience. Most people are a lot looser with their emotions. Sam was still in total control. It's easy to hear when you are looking for it._

Experience, huh? Well, that's both depressing and enlightening. Dean filed that away to share later with Sam. Dean blinked as the notebook was taken from his grasp. It was his turn to fiddle awkwardly as Rowan wrote out her next message. When she had finally finished, she made sure she had his attention before signing sorry and passing over the notebook.

"Sorry for what, Kiddo?" He read over the note that had been written to him. It was more like an apology letter. When he had finished he dropped the notebook on the bed and stood to sit next to Rowan. He halted his attempt, when Q, whom Dean had thought had still been sleeping, began quietly growling. "Okay, nevermind. You come over here." He sat back on his bed and lifted his left arm for Rowan to sit next to him. "Don't _ever_ tell, Sam I said this but, he may have been right." He curled his arm around the teen's shoulder and lightly squeezed as she huffed a laugh. "Rowan, I'm not mad at you. I was upset that you didn't follow the rules and that because of that you got hurt, but I'm not, and never was, mad at you. I'm mad at myself because I wasn't there when you needed me. And because I'm a messed up person, I can't just say that I was terrified and worried. But I was. I am. Because what if it happens again? Or what if something happens to Sam? It would destroy me if either of you were to get hurt because I wasn't around. I can't, I can't handle that. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to tell you that." Dean lightly grabbed Rowan's chin and brought her gaze up to meet his. "I am so sorry for how I reacted. I didn't listen to you and I should have and I'm sorry. I don't want you to be scared of me, in any way. I'm not kicking you out, Rowan. For anything. And especially not for being a girl. I'm not going to lie, some things are going to be a whole lot more awkward now." Dean winced at some of the memories flashing through his brain. "Oh, god. I am so sorry. Note to self: take duffel when showering. I am so sorry." He ran a hand over his forehead and down his face, before getting serious again. "Rowan, you're stuck with us until you want to leave. And if that's what you want to do, I won't stop you, but I don't want you to go, thinking you have to, because I found out your secret. And I'm sorry I found out that way and that you didn't get to make the decision to tell me. I love you, Kid. You're still Rowan, the youngest younger sibling I never knew I needed."

Rowan blinked heavily and made sure Dean was finished before she leaned in even closer and gave the older man a short but tight hug. When she was pulling back, Dean wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her in again, only to grunt in pain when Q decided to join in the group hug and launched himself from the other bed, knocking the two humans flat.

"Guess the beast forgives me. He's making it a little hard to breathe though, so maybe not."

Rowan laughed and gently pushed the giant canine off their chests. Q easily flopped over and settled onto the foot of the bed. She and Dean moved to lean against the headboard. Rowan picked up the notebook and remote that had been previously discarded on the bed and placed them on the nightstand next to her.

Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulders once again, leaning his face towards her head. "We okay?" he asked.

Rowan nodded, leaning against him and settling in to finish the western that playing on TV.

"Good." He brushed his nose across the top of the dark locks and turned his own eyes back to the TV.

Sam crept into the quiet motel room and smiled at the sight that greeted him. Rowan had fallen asleep on Dean's chest. Dean had one arm wrapped around her and then other rested on Q's head which was positioned across the man's stomach.

Dean turned his head toward his brother. "Subtly, Sammy. It's a thing you should learn."

Sam's grin widened and he shut off the TV as he walked by on his way to the bathroom. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

Dean looked at the teenager currently drooling on his chest. "Yeah, it did."


End file.
